Every morning, there comes a point when Abbi realizes something terrible is about to happen.

Mom and Dad are going to work.

Again.

Apparently, the fact that we did this yesterday and eventually came home has done nothing to ease her concerns. The shoes go on. The keys come out. We start gathering everything for the day, and Abbi gives us that look.

Do we really have to do this?

And frankly, she makes a compelling argument.

The bed is comfortable. The house is quiet. Abbi is ready for a lazy day. Why would anyone voluntarily leave all of this just to go to work?

Unfortunately, somebody has to pay for the dog food, treats, fresh sheets, air conditioning, and the approximately 47 vacuum bags required to keep up with her shedding.

Abbi has yet to volunteer.

Instead, she watches us get ready with the disappointment of a manager who just found out her employees are abandoning their posts.

You can almost hear the questions.

Where are you going?

Why are you going?

Have you considered simply not going?

Believe me, Abbi. We have.

But eventually the door closes, the Bigfoot crew heads out for another day, and Abbi is left with the incredibly difficult responsibility of staying home, sleeping in our bed, and doing absolutely nothing until we return.

Somebody has to make the sacrifices around here.

Apparently, it’s Abbi